Firsts
by ZeGabz
Summary: The first time he met her, he knew many more firsts would come from the encounter. Love never lies. Enjolras/Eponine
1. First Meeting

**A/N: You know how some stories are best left as oneshots because it makes them more powerful? Well, that is why I am posting a new story instead of updating _The Phantom Waltz_, though I did try. But I had to go with my gut.**

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"Enjolras, there's someone I'd like you to meet!"

Enjolras glanced up from his book with a sigh. The boys always had to interrupt him during the climax of the book, didn't they?

"I'll be there!" he called, determined to at least finish the page. Or the chapter. Maybe they would forget about him and let him be.

The door to his small reading room burst open, letting in far more light than he needed, or preferred, for that matter. Marius peeked in.

"Hurry up, Enjolras, show some manners, will you?"

"You're lucky you're you or you would have no room to speak," Enjolras muttered as he heaved himself up and carefully marked his place in his book. Marius led him out into the Café, where all of the men were gathered around Marius' friend. Enjolras figured the friend must be female for them to be making such a fuss.

"Who do you need me to meet so badly, Marius?" he asked.

"My friend, 'Ponine."

"I have never heard of a 'Ponine."

"Her parents named her after a book character, she says." Marius stopped. "Would it be, God forbid, a book the glorious and brilliant Enjolras has not read?" He gained a chuckle from the quip, and Enjolras stopped.

"In all my time I never read of a 'Ponine. So it must not be a _good_ book then." He smiled. "And it is a girl, then?" Of course it was. He was never wrong.

"You could hardly call her a girl, Enjolras," Marius said, "She knows too much for her age. But don't let that scare you off. She's my best friend. She's funny, and is always there when I need her. She brought me to Cosette." He smiled. "You'd like her. And she isn't ugly. A little rough, not like my Cosette, but she's be easy for your eyes," he added with a teasing grin. Enjolras scoffed at the very idea. His mistress was freedom, France . . .

"If I didn't know any better I would have thought you were in love with her."

"Don't be silly, she's just a friend, nothing more."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive. The thought is just preposterous. We're friends, and always will be." He raised an eyebrow. "Would you want to date your sister?"

They reached the crowd, gathered tightly around the guest.

"Make way, make way!" Marius called, and they split to reveal the last thing Enjolras expected.

Most would have seen first a ragged street urchin, covered in dirt and muck, dressed in old rags that weren't meant for a girl in the first place. Most would have seen a girl that looked like a messy prostitute, and would have guessed she was one. Maybe some would have seen a thief, a sly, clever street rat with intentions of only making it through her next meal. And a few would see an unfortunate soul that gave them an excuse to flaunt over and give her a few francs just to look saintly. But not him.

He only saw her eyes. Dark and deep, full of sadness and strength, cold and passionate. They were an enchanting brown, and twinkled in the light of the Cafe. He once read that eyes were the window to the soul, but had never truly believed until that moment. She stared at him defiantly, as if daring him to ogle over her in her sad state of unintentional undress like the other boys. He simply stared back, lost in her gaze. Marius had been right. About a lot.

"Enjolras, this is my friend Éponine, but you can call her 'Ponine, as I said," Marius stated, and they continued their stare-down. After several long (Were they long, short, he didn't know) moments, he held out his hand. She stared at it for a moment before shaking her head with an embarrassed smile.

"I mean no disrespect Monsieur, I would shake but I might get your hands dirty."

Her eyes said all her limited vocabulary couldn't, he realized as she spoke.

"I'll have none of that," he said with a smile, "My hands are no cleaner than yours."

"I doubt that, Monsieur," she replied, but finally extended her hand, which he took firmly.

"Enjolras," he said.

"Éponine," she replied with a small smile, repeating Marius' introduction.

"Enchanté," he said, kissing her hand, much to her surprise. She glanced from him to Marius to her hand, pulling it away. He straightened up.

They looked at each other for another moment.

"Well, if Enjolras is done attempting to court 'Ponine, than let's get back to work, shall we?" Grantaire called. He blushed. Marius winked at him.

Her eyes could dance, he noticed, as she simply laughed and turned to exit, after a glance at Marius.


	2. First Kiss

**A/N: There are about five drafts of this, each of them terrible, but I think I've FINALLY gotten it right. So here we go! When I finish this I'll start on a new story. ;) **

**So give me some ideas! What "first" should I write next?**

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"Have you seen Marius?" Éponine asked as she sat down across from Enjolras. He just looked up at her, and then back down at the table. She raised her eyebrows, puzzled. "Um, Enjolras? Are you alright?"

He looked up at her as if in a daze, his eyes tired and his face weary.

"Tell me, 'Ponine, how do you control a Café full of wild boys and drunken men?"

She smirked. "No offense, Monsier, but why would you expect me to know? I'se just a girl off the streets."

"Exactly." Her mouth dropped open from shock, before she erupted into laughter, her eyes sparkling in that way he loved again. Her laughter drew a few curious stares from his friends.

After her laughter died down, she grinned at him. "Well, they must respect you, Enjolras."

"They don't?" He felt insulted. She sighed, her eyes glimmering with amusement.

"They respect you as their leader. What you need to really lead them is for them to respect you as one of 'em. As a friend."

"And what do we have here?" came a voice. Marius. He sat down next to Éponine, giving her a teasing shove, which she returned heartily.

"Éponine is just giving me some advice," he replied, "You?"

"Oh, well . . ." He swallowed, "I was going to ask a favor."

"Yes?"

"Will you, um, allow me to bring Cosette to the Café? Just once. I want everyone to meet her, like they did 'Ponine."

Enjolras glanced over at her, and she was scowling. He almost said no, just because of the look in her eyes, but when he turned and saw the pleading look on Marius's face, he couldn't refuse.

"Fine, but don't lose your focus, Marius. Patria first, Cosette second."

"Yes, yes, thank you Enjolras!"

Marius rushed out of the Café, and Éponine turned away from him. "What?"

She shrugged him off. "You HAD to say yes, didn't you," she muttered under her breath, unaware that he had heard. He stopped in his tracks.

"What?"

"What?" she repeated innocently. He narrowed his eyes.

"What problem do you have with Marius bringing Cosette here?" Her eyes widened in understanding- she had finally been caught.

"I-I have n-n-no problem with her coming!" she spluttered, backing away, as if to make a run for it. Enjolras reached out and grabbed her arm, pulling her to him. She looked up at him, startled as he was by the action.

"Are you sure?" he whispered, his breathing tickling her neck. She shuddered, and nodded with a gulp.

"Let me go!" she huffed, "People are staring."

"Since when do you care?" he chuckled, letting her go.

"Since now!" she replied hotly, sitting down on a nearby bench and crossing her arms.

"Are you . . . pouting?" Her mouth fell open again in outrage as he chortled loudly.

"Don't be stupid!" she hissed, "I'se just sittin', that's all."

He sat next to her. "Fine then. But honestly, 'Ponine, what's wrong with Cosette coming?"

"Not this again," she sighed. "Don'tya ever get tired of it?"

"I won't cease until you answer truthfully." He took her hand. "Trust me."

"Trust you to what? To not tell anyone?"

"Tell anyone what?"

"That I- you- ugh!" she groaned, burying her face in her hands. "Stop confusing me, Enjolras!" She glared. "Flaunting your schoolboy smarts like you know everything. Well I could've been a student too!" she huffed hotly.

"Easy there, Éponine!" Enjolras soothed, "I never said you couldn't. In fact, I'm pretty sure you could!" She faltered, but shook her head angrily. Enjolras wondered how this conversation had taken such a fierce turn.

"Just-just leave me alone!" she moaned. Yes, he should do that. But . . .

"I can't . . ." he murmured, not expecting her to hear. But she did.

"Why?"

The door to the Café swung open and Marius rushed in, tugging behind a small young blonde woman behind him. He excitedly shushed the room.

"Friends, meet Cosette," he said, beaming.

"You mean that ghost-girl?" Grataire called out.

"Who set your soul on fire?" Joly added with a wink at Cosette, who blushed deeply.

"Enough!" Enjolras called, leaving Éponine, who drew back into the corner of the room silently. He approached Cosette and shook her hand. "It's a pleasure to meet the lady Marius spoke so fondly of yesterday." She smiled sweetly.

"Thank you, Monsieur."

He bowed to her and stepped back to let the other boys talk to her.

_Éponine_. Where was she? He looked around quickly until he found her sitting at the farthest bench in the shadows. He walked over and sat beside her silently. She didn't look up. She had no need to.

"I don't understand why I couldn't just have this," she whispered sullenly. Enjolras reached out to place his hand on her bony shoulder.

"What do you mean?" he asked softly.

"The Café was the one place where I could escape her. Where I could pretend she didn't exist, that Marius hadn't fallen for a girl he met by chance when I have been waiting for years. This was the place where I could be his Éponine." She glanced over at him, her eyes suddenly wide. "You won't tell him? I mean, I just would really rather you-" he shook his head, silencing her. " Thanks, M'sieur. I'm sorry for telling you. I guess I've needed to tell someone for a while."

So that was it. He was so stupid to have not seen it before! Éponine was in love with Marius! It was so painfully obvious! He mentally kicked himself for being so blind.

Something seemed to break inside of him. He felt . . . hurt. He had no clue why.

"I don't know why I even bother, it's not like I ever even stood a chance."

"Why do you say that?" Enjolras asked, mystified. Éponine looked at him as if he were missing something terribly obvious.

"Enjolras- look at me!" He did so easily.

" . . . I'm looking." She scowled.

"Stop it."

"Stop what?"

"Look at me! I'm hideous! I'm dirty, I smell bad, my hair is greasy and tangled, I'se too tangled, I have no pretty dresses, and all in all, I'm ugly."

Enjolras stared at her in shock for a long moment. "Come with me."

She frowned. "Where?"

"Just follow me." She hesitated. "Please?" Finally, she relented, taking his hand as he led her outside and away from the commotion of Cosette's arrival. He pulled her into an alley.

"Why'd you bring me here, M'sieur?" Éponine asked, an edge coloring her voice.

"Éponine, you are not ugly, or anything you said back in the Café." She scoffed at him yet again, rolling her eyes. "No, don't roll your eyes, just listen to me!" She sighed and crossed her arms, leaning to the left. His next words bursted out of him, refusing to allow his brain to think. "Now Éponine, would I kiss a girl who was ugly?"

_What did I just say?_

"What do you mea-" He didn't think. He just leaned forward as she spoke . . .

Éponine's question was interrupted by Enjolras' lips cutting her off. He kissed her softly, as if he were kissing away her pain. She responded hesitantly, as if she wasn't sure what was happening. Her lips only brushed against his lightly as he found himself wanting to deepen the kiss.

No, _no_. What he had done was enough for her. Not for him, but for her.

He pulled back with a smug yet tender smile on his face, half expecting her to slap him across the face, as she did with other suitors, but she just stood there with her fingers on her lips.

"Have I rendered Éponine Thernardier speechless?" he teased gently, trying to lift the heavy atmosphere that had fallen over them. He still couldn't believe what he had just done. He did it to comfort her, he did it to comfort her, he repeated to himself over and _over_. But he knew he was lying.

"I-you-it's-I, um . . ." she broke off, running out of the alley. He stood for a moment longer but as he took his first step to go back to the Café, Éponine ran back into the alley, approaching him and hugging him swiftly.

"Thank you," she whispered before leaving again, back to the Café.


End file.
